


World of Wilting Roses

by EvaInevitable



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Angst and Humor, Angst and Tragedy, Apocalypse, Champion Shiro (Voltron), Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Found Family, Horror, Human Resilience and Love, Hurt Keith (Voltron), Hurt/Comfort, Inspired by Left 4 Dead (Video Games), Inspired by Resident Evil, Inspired by The Last of Us, M/M, Post-Apocalypse, Protective Shiro (Voltron), Protectiveness, Romance, SHEITH - Freeform, Sacrifice, Team Voltron Family, the galra are mean
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-04
Updated: 2019-02-09
Packaged: 2019-08-17 12:51:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16516817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvaInevitable/pseuds/EvaInevitable
Summary: The Galra have turned humanity into Husks- hollow shells of all they used to be. The Undead now walk the Earth.Keith is a survivor haunted by a secret known only to his guiding light, Shiro. However, now even he's gone just when they need their leader most. The Undead are mutating, the Galra are still lurking in the shadows, and the living are proving to be as much a threat as the dead. A tale of love, tragedy and found-family.Or the one where it's Voltron but it's the apocalypse.





	1. Strings of Fate

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! This was supposed to be posted on Halloween but better late than never! This is a self-indulgent zombie fic combined with Voltron goodness! The Last of Us, Left 4 Dead, The Walking Dead, Resident Evil...let's toss it all in the pot and rock on!

Keith adjusted his leather gloves before punching out the last of the glass. He swung his leg up over the window and dropped into what used to function as a gas station. Glass crunched beneath his heavy biker boots when he landed. Thick plumes of dust coated the abandoned store and he pulled his red cowl up over his mouth. Next, he slipped his knife from his combat belt and edged along the aisle, towards the counter at the front. He was hoping to find some medical supplies missed by looters. The silence was both unnerving and comforting; no Infected in sight, but that didn't mean there were no looters and thugs waiting to jump him. Keith had certainly learned that the hard way. Reaching across the counter, he grasped an empty can from the shelf before tossing it against the wall. He gripped his knife and waited.

The silence stretched on; save for the scraping of metal against the caved-in roof of the derelict store. He was alone. Keith slid over the counter and immediately began rifling through the drawers. He ignored the bashed in till; money meant nothing in this world now. Medicine and food were the only currency that truly mattered and anyone who thought differently was deluded in Keith's opinion. The counter and the cabinets had been evidently raided before; the majority of them hanging broken from their hinges. Keith remained diligent in his search. He was glad for the fabric over his face- it helped to stifle the smell as he sifted through the mould and heaps of dust. After a few minutes of searching, Keith’s hand grasped around an adrenaline shot and his heart soared before discovering it had already been used. Cursing, he tossed it across the shop, his breath suddenly coming out in shudders. He was risking too much being out here. He was being an idiot. Keith ran his fingers through his raven locks as he attempted to steady his breathing.

_Patience Yields Focus._

The familiar mantra calmed him. Breathing deeply, Keith reached for the dog-tags around his neck. Once his nerves had settled, Keith knelt down and jimmied open a drawer with one of his older knives. His hand froze over a small handgun and he checked the ammunition. Empty. He dropped it into his bag, regardless. With a heavy sigh, he pushed himself to his feet; hand resting on the counter. Keith moved up and down the aisles, but his endeavour was proving to be futile- the place had no doubt been ransacked on multiple occasions. He peered into a crushed cardboard box filled with ingrowing weeds. Flies hovered around a dead animal at the very bottom and Keith looked away. He pressed on. Keith was close to abandoning what was swiftly proving to be a colossal waste of time when his eyes fell upon a discarded khaki backpack. It was just visible behind a tire in the corner. It looked like it had been dropped in a hurry. Without letting his guard down, Keith slowly made his way over and emptied the contents of the bag out onto the broken table. Various clutter that Keith didn’t need bagging him down, fell from the pouches, before a weak laugh escaped his cracked lips. A can of peanut butter had clattered against the table. Slipping his hand into the side compartment, his patience was finally rewarded when his fingers curled around a jar of pills. He rubbed the grime from the label. Painkillers. He looked to the dull, grey, crumbling ceiling and gave a silent _thank you_ to the previous owner of the backpack. Half a dozen granola bars also graced the front pouch and Keith had to bite his lip to hold back from shouting in delight. There was a note at the bottom wrapped around one of the bars and Keith smoothed it out across the table.

_No matter what happens, know that I will always be with you, Hunk x You are so, so strong and I know you will always do what's right. You have a heart of gold and you are my everything-"_

Keith couldn’t bring himself to read the rest of the letter. It felt invasive. He didn’t need to know which poor soul he was stealing from. Suddenly, he was a lot less excited about the peanut butter and the pills and the granola. A sudden noise startled Keith from his trance and he immediately raised his knife. The sound only grew louder, and it took Keith a moment to realise the noise was the gentle strumming of a guitar. Keith couldn’t remember the last time he’d heard any sort of music. Glancing back at the window, Keith felt conflicted. The logical part of his brain was urging him to leave- to circle the perimeter, search for any other supplies and then get the Hell back to Sanctuary. But he felt his heart tug with every note that rang out through the otherwise thick silence.

"Fuck,” Keith breathed before he clutched at the dog-tags beneath his shirt once again.

He continued up the back of the shop and found a staircase leading up to what must have been an apartment block above the store. The steps had crumbled away and Keith had to slip his knife back into its sheath. Gripping the side of the stairs, he began to scale up the wall instead. The music became undeniable, the higher he climbed. As he moved along the hallway, he heard the tell-tale gurgling noise of an infected. Sure enough, a Husk was dragging itself across the hallway, no doubt, towards the music. The mysterious musician was lucky that this particular Infected was just a torso, its innards trailing out behind it as it pathetically crawled forward. The hinges on its withered jaw snapped open and closed, barring those rotten teeth as it moaned. Keith bent down to the crawler and sunk his knife deep into its skull, putting an end to its tragic gurgling. They weren’t human anymore. Whatever the Galra had done to planet Earth had turned the majority of the population into walking corpses. It made the task of having to kill the infected a lot easier to tell himself that.

_They aren’t human. Not anymore. It’s a mercy killing._

Keith continued down the corridor as the guitar music suddenly grew louder. It was possible the Guitarist _wanted_ to attract attention and Keith was walking straight into a trap. Somehow, he didn’t think that was the case. Keith stopped to wipe the blood from his knife with a ratty cloth from his pack. There was no door at the end, only a large gap in the wall, where the sediment had crumbled away. A twisted tree was growing through the building and Keith finally saw the outline of a man with a guitar across his lap. He sat on a single chair in an otherwise empty room in the far corner by the window; rays of sickly light filtered in. The notes were beautiful, even if the cords were broken in parts. It seemed defiant somehow. As Keith approached, he could see the man had dark hair and wore a khaki gilet over a mustard shirt. He didn’t look like a typical bandit or looter but, then again, you never could tell. In another lifetime, Keith would have been moved by his performance- but unfortunately the world had no time for art these days. Noise only attracted unwanted attention.

“Hey,” Keith called over to the man- he was young, younger than Keith had first assumed given his bulky frame. The man continued to strum the guitar, the cords singing out across the barren wasteland.

“Hey!” Keith tried again. “I’m not a looter.” Keith held up his hands as if to prove his point, but the man didn’t so much as glance in his direction. Keith remained inert until the man eventually spoke.

“Isn’t that what they all say?” he breathed out, his voice worn and fragile. “Before they just…shoot you and rob your corpse?”

Keith inched forward so that he could see the man’s profile. His hazel eyes were glazed over as he stared out at the crumbling wasteland of a once flourishing city. Keith had already plotted his quickest exit if things went south; gaze sweeping the expanse of the room before landing on the guitarist once again.

“Listen, quit playing that you’re going to attract all sorts of trouble - from both the living and the dead.” Keith waved his gloved hand in an attempt to catch the man's attention. No such luck. The Guitarist continued staring out between the gnarled trees and the rotten buildings. He kept playing his music. 

“What’s your name?” Keith tried again. Killing the undead Husks was not a problem for Keith, but speaking to the living? Not really his forte. Keith tugged on his dog-tags once again.

The old Keith would have snatched the guitar from the man's grip and snapped it across his knee to prove a point....but that wasn't who Keith was anymore.

 _Shiro give me strength_.

The Guitarist, with the apparent death wish, ignored him once again and Keith assessed the room for any possible gang members, lurking in the shadows waiting to jump him.

“Well, I’m Keith,” he answered his own question since the stranger wasn’t biting, “and I’m risking my neck even standing here right now.”

Keith knew he shouldn’t be up here- hell he shouldn’t even be on this supply run. But…Keith couldn’t get Shiro out of his head. He had always tried to save everyone in this world; putting the needs of others before his own. Just sitting in camp doing nothing had Keith gradually losing his mind. Maybe he’d already lost it, which would explain his current attempt at conversing with a potential killer. The noise from the guitar may not have attracted a horde, but it sure as hell would have caught the attention of any nearby gangs. Subconsciously, Keith touched the old wound in his side, just below his ribs.

 

_You survived for a reason, Keith._

 

Keith was pulled from his thoughts as the stranger seemed to find his voice. "Hunk," he said, his tone empty and hollow. Keith felt his fight or flight instinct waver.

Name. The stranger was telling him his name.

“Hunk…pleased to meet you.” Keith edged a little closer and tentatively gripped the top of the guitar. With a start, Keith realised that the man’s fingers were bleeding. How long had he been playing those horrifically broken strings? That same melody over and over, in a perpetual loop.

“Maybe that’s what I wanted?” Hunk said quietly, still not looking at Keith. “It’s clearly not loud enough to attract a horde.” He clenched his fists in his lap. “I can’t even do that right,” his voice wavered. Keith pushed a granola bar into the man’s sliced fingers. A peace offering.  Something flickered behind Hunk’s lifeless hazel eyes then.

“I see you found her backpack?” Hunk said, his gaze flickering over Keith’s shoulder to the second pack slung over Keith’s shoulder. It was not the response he was expecting. Keith glanced at the food in his hands as realisation sunk in. “This bag is yours? I’m so sorry I didn’t know, I just found it in-”

“-Keep it,” Hunk said quietly finally making eye contact with Keith. “We never liked anyone to go hungry.”

Keith wasn't sure what to say after that. Awkwardly, he shouldered the pack up higher over his shoulder.

“What was her name?” Keith asked after a few moments that felt like an eternity. The man hung his head; the ribbon of his orange bandana, falling over his shoulder.

“Shay,” he whispered, and Keith felt his chest constrict at the despair in Hunk’s voice. Keith may have only just met this man, but he knew the look of heartbreak when he saw it. It was an all-too familiar feeling.

"I know what it’s like to lose someone you care about.”  Keith chose every word with great care, terrified to scare the stranger- Hunk- away.

“I didn’t know her, but if they’re anything like the man I lost, they wouldn’t want you to give up. They’d want you to fight.” Hunk finally let Keith completely pry the guitar from his bloodied grip. Keith gently handed the note he’d recovered from the backpack into Hunk’s shaking hands. The guitarist read the scratchy writing before his shoulders sagged. 

“Why are you even trying to help me?” he asked, his eyes no longer as glassy.

Keith saw a flash of a smile from his memories, a warm hand on his shoulder, a tree they sat beside as he thought his whole world was coming to an end.

Keith pursed his lips and coughed to clear the lump in his throat. “Because someone once told me that the minute we give up on our humanity, that’s when the Galra have truly won.” Keith returned the backpack to the mourning man. “And I can’t stand the thought of losing any more than I already have.”

The moment stretched on and Keith was beginning to think that Hunk would refuse, before he took the bag back once again. Keith breathed a sigh of relief.

“Hunk, I’m going to trust you. You should come with me," Keith said. "There’s a group of us-”

“-Shay and I never did have much luck with groups,” Hunk said, looking back out through the broken window. He fell silent again as if mulling over Keith’s offer.

“But this world is so cruel,” Hunk said as he got to his feet. He swallowed. “I was a chef- before all this happened. Not much room for fine dining now, but I know my way around what’s edible and what’s not and what constitutes a decent meal these days.”

Keith gave a tentative smile. He fixed his gloves before he extended out his hand. Hunk accepted.

“Nice to meet you, Hunk. I’m just sorry the circumstances are so shitty,” Keith said as he handed the guitar back. Hunk placed it against the wall before Keith shook his head. “No, take it with you.”

Hunk raised a questioning eyebrow and Keith gave him a crooked smile.

“Starved for entertainment at camp, really." Keith was already walking back towards the exit. "Honestly, might even sweeten the deal of me bringing you back.”

“So… the guitar is the asset here and not my cooking?” Hunk said with a hesitant smile. Keith shrugged and motioned for him to follow.

“Can you tell I’ve got my priorities set in the apocalypse?”

Hunk actually laughed at that and Keith knew there wasn’t much room for victory in this world, but he chalked this one up to a significant win.

He just hoped the others saw it that way when he got back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All Kudos, comments, bookmarks are greatly appreciated!  
> Come say hi on Tumblr! and Twitter  
> There's also my Sheith piece "It Takes Two to Tango!"
> 
> Stay Epic  
> -Inevi x
> 
> Next Time- In the Belly of the Weblum
> 
> This author replies to comments


	2. The Belly of the Weblum

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back! Thanks so much for joining me on this journey! Special thanks to everyone who has left kudos so far! I'm always open to suggestions so let me know in the comments any of your thoughts! I hope you enjoy! ~ Inevi

Hunk kept the guitar.                      

He was clutching the instrument like a machete as he stood at the edge of the road. He was on watch while Keith headed into the trees to get the car. Despite the long, empty stretch of road, Hunk felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, a constant unease unfurling in his stomach that someone or something was watching them from the trees.

Keith yanked away the large, ratty sheet that was concealing his car and breathed a sigh of relief at finding it untouched. He draped himself across the bonnet. Keith had left it here and hoped for the best. A very risky, very flawed plan that Keith had half-expected was going to end with him returning to Sanctuary on foot while someone else drove his car off into the sunset. After several harsh tugs on the door, Keith managed to get the car open. Hunk gently placed the guitar in the back, avoiding the springs in the burst seats. Keith was muttering to himself as he slipped the keys into the ignition. He patted the dash, a crease between his brows.

“C’mon Red, start for me. C’mon girl, don’t fail me now.” It took many attempts and a string of muttered curses before Keith finally got the engine to stutter back to life. He breathed yet another sigh of relief, sinking back in the driver’s seat.

“Well…we were almost stranded there, Hunk,” he admitted with a weak chuckle before driving them out onto the dirt road. “What a failed rescue mission that would have been, huh?”

Hunk smiled at that. “Sorry again to be such a burden.”

It seemed that Keith had risked a lot coming out here and Hunk had a lot of questions, but the one thing the cook couldn’t quite put his finger on was if this man Keith was from a sanctuary, why was he out scavenging alone?

“You’re staring,” Keith noted as he changed the gear. “For the last time, I’m not a looter.”

Hunk wanted to believe him. Badly. But Hunk knew that he had a track record of being too trusting- it had gotten him- not to mention the rest of his family- into all sorts of trouble in the past. Unless…was Keith one of _them_? Hunk was discretely trying to determine whether there was a tell-tale purple insignia on his wrist. Keith did wear those suspicious leather gloves after all-

“Are you trying to see if my skin is purple?” Keith asked incredulously. “Look if I was some Galra sympathiser luring you to your death, don’t you think I would have killed you by now?”

Hunk cringed. “Well you’re either one of the bad guys or just plain stupid for picking me up- I could have been anyone!”

Keith gave a sad smile as he turned the wheel, guiding the car around a fallen tree. “Just an idiot, I guess.” Keith reached over and hung his dog-tags on the cracked over-head mirror. He straightened it out.

“And you’re not a burden, Hunk. We need all the help we can get now-” Keith was cut off with a wince as the old wound in his side suddenly flared up once again. He hissed through his teeth, clutching just below his ribs while keeping the other hand firmly on the wheel. He took a shuddering breath.

“H-hey, Hunk? Can you do me a favour? In the glove compartment- yeah in there- there should be some pain killers. C-can you grab them?” He kept his voice as level as he could. Hunk rummaged around and a picture fell out onto his lap. It was a polaroid of a laughing Keith with a handsome, taller man in a leather jacket standing behind him. He had a hand resting on Keith’s shoulder. Hunk passed Keith the pain killers who swallowed them dry. He smiled sadly when Hunk held up the photo.  

“That’s Shiro, he was my…”

 _My what? Boyfriend? That didn’t feel right for them, somehow. They had never really labelled what they had- certainly had no time to clarify it in the chaos of the apocalypse._ _My partner in crime? My rock? My everything_.

“He’s my Shay,” Keith eventually went with and Hunk carefully tucked the photo back into the glove compartment. The pain in Keith’s side continued to throb and Keith gripped the wheel tighter.

“I miss him every day.”

They drove in silence then, their shared loss hanging heavy in the air. Hunk didn’t ask for details. When he closed his eyes, he could still see Shay’s amber eyes lose their spark, her smile slowly fading when she slipped in his arms-

Hunk shook his head feeling another lump form in the back of his throat. He dispelled those dark thoughts before he descended into another breakdown. He had to keep himself focused if he wanted to move forward…for her sake.

“I can show you where I got those supplies!” Hunk said quickly and Keith looked at him sideways.

“You didn’t take all of it? Are you crazy? Why leave stuff behind?”

Hunk gripped his knees before responding.

“Well, Shay and I don’t like-” he caught himself, “didn’t like to be greedy, we just took enough for us to get by.” He shrugged and stared out the window. “That way if anyone else found the place they’d get supplies too, y' know? It’s a nic-nac, physic shop, type place. I don’t know the proper name for it. Crystal balls and all that…Looters must have overlooked it.”

Keith couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. This was a dog-eat dog - human eat human- Galra kill… _whatever_ world, and yet, Hunk had survived doing none of that. His morals seemed very much still intact. Hunk was still talking.

“…and if you’re taking me back to your camp, I’ll need more supplies to help feed your group.”

Keith eyed the fuel meter. He was low. It was risky. Keith thought of camp; their dwindling food supplies, the wounded, the low morale…

“Okay,” he eventually breathed as Hunk smiled and sat up straighter in his seat. Hunk focused his attention on directing Keith along the winding roads until they pulled up to a small building, tucked away in the trees. The sign read “The Belly of The Weblum,” in rusty, golden writing and the navy stars and moons that adorned the sign were all hanging off. It must have been welcoming once upon a time. It looked to Keith like a Reiki giftshop that sold candles and healing crystals before the world ended. Keith killed the engine and grabbed his pack from the back of the car. He checked his knives; Keith had one sheathed in his boots; one in the belt around his waist and he held one in his gloved hands. He turned to Hunk to see the cook standing with just his backpack. No visible weapons.

“Uh…Hunk? Even if you think this place is safe from Looters you’re still going to need to defend yourself from the Undead.”

Hunk’s eyes fell to the floor. He shouldered his slipping backpack up higher.

“I’m not…killing isn’t really…” he swallowed as he continued to stare down at his shoes. Keith twirled a knife before holding it out, scarlet hilt first and Hunk visibly recoiled; the colour instantly draining from his face.

~~

_He gripped the knife in his hand as Shay smiled up at him, her bloodied hand leaving a scarlet mark on his sleeve. Hunk bit his lip as tried to pick her up without hurting her._

_“It’s okay, Hunk. Honey, it’s okay. I will always be with you. Please survive for me. Beat this world. You know what you have to do.” Shay was bitten. There was no cure once you were bitten._

_Hunk closed his eyes tightly. His hand was shaking as he gripped the knife and-_

_~~_

“No,” Hunk said, resolutely, his jaw turning tense. “No knives. I-I can’t,” he choked and Keith lowered his arm. _How had this man even survived this far?_   Keith thought of the arsenal he’d brought along with him. He had snuck out from camp and so had to travel light, the three knives on his person were all his own and the only other weapon he had, was the gun in the back of the car that he’d scavenged from the garage. It had an empty cartridge. Keith rummaged in the bag and passed it over to Hunk.

“It’s got no bullets, but if we run into trouble you can always…bluff, I guess.”

Tentatively, Hunk accepted the gun and slid it into his pocket.

“Thank you, Keith. I-I am sorry, I’ll be okay.”

“Good. I gotta be able to count on you,” Keith said reaching to lay his hand on Hunk’s shoulder before thinking better of it and letting it hang at his side. Keith made to lock the car, but Hunk called for him to wait as he dived in the back to retrieve something. He stood up straight, clutching the guitar like it was a bat. “Okay, now I’m ready.”

Keith was praying to whatever was still listening up there that this would go as smoothly as he hoped.

Three Husks were eating from a corpse on the steps of the Reiki Shop, their heads turning in unison when Keith and Hunk approached. Blood dripped nefariously from their teeth. Keith closed the distance in a few strides and kicked them into the dirt, crushing the first infected’s head with his boot. His knife found the skulls of the other two before he crept forward and up onto the porch. The sodden wood of the patio creaked beneath his heavy boots. Keith peered through the shattered glass on the door that once seemed to have been a stained-glass piece depicting an angel. He motioned for Hunk to follow him.

“If the witch woman…Husk? Is that what you call them? If the witchy Husk woman is still there, her face made me throw up last time. Just a word of warning.”

“Duly noted.” There was a chime attached to the top of the door as Keith gently cracked it open. The stench hit them both immediately and Hunk made a retching noise.

“Wait what am I standing in? Is that a mucus pocket? I do not like sludge.”

“Hunk! Knock it off, you’re freaking yourself out.” Keith let the door shut as he turned around to face him.

“No, standing inches away from that puss bubble is freaking me out-eeeughh!”

“Look, we’re going into an overrun, musty, old psychic shop. There’s no way to sugar-coat it. But I’m going to need you to stay calm if we’re going to get those supplies. Now will you be alright?” Keith asked again.

Hunk took a deep breath and closed his eyes tightly. “Okay. Okay. I’m okay.”

Keith gave a firm nod before he gripped the door handle once again. The noise of the chime on the doorway disturbed the Husk in the centre of the shop, its head to lolling to stare at them. Long, straggly grey hair and a thin, silk nightgown hung from its bony shoulders. Talon-like fingers stretched out towards them, as it staggered forward. Hunk made a small noise. The Husk knocked a row of bottles to the floor and Keith edged around the counter as it stumbled, before tossing one of the bottles at the creature. He kicked its emaciated legs before stabbing his knife through the back of its head. After it crumpled to the ground, Keith wiped his knife along his jeans. Hunk gave an encouraging thumbs up.

“You’re doing amazing, Keith. Don’t want to cramp your style.”

Keith shook his head, but he was smiling despite himself. That’s when he spotted the corpse behind the counter. She had no jaw, the left hand-side of her head had sunken in, the rotten flesh hanging off its face. A tattered, old pink shawl was wrapped around her shoulders. She was chained to the table, a crystal ball and a deck of cards still in the box between her cuffed hands. A crow was pecking at her eye-socket and Hunk was decidedly staring in the other direction. This must be the witch woman, he mentioned. Keith slowly reached across the table for the tarot deck and the crow tilted its head to stare at him. Hunk had to look away again.

“She’s dead, Hunk. It’s just a corpse. An actual corpse and not an Undead one. She ended it before she turned it seems,” Keith pointed out grimly as he stepped back. Hunk made another retching noise. He watched as Keith carefully slid the cards into his open backpack.

“Wow… are you really that starved for entertainment at your camp? Physic cards? You weren’t kidding.” Hunk noted. He kept glancing over his shoulder as he spoke, gripping the guitar tighter. "This place gives me the creeps."

“I have a friend who will like them,” Keith said with a shrug.

“Well, I hope the cards are for decorative purposes only, because you don’t need a psychic to tell you the world is frigged,” Hunk said with a dry laugh.

Hunk led Keith further into the giftshop, ducking through the cerise, hanging beads at the back. Hunk opened a cabinet and rifled around while Keith watched the perimeter. Hunk dropped a box on the table with planets and constellations engraved into the wood. Popping open the lock, Keith gave a low appreciative whistle at the bottles of pills and medication inside. Keith clapped Hunk on the back.

“Nice one, buddy. Now let’s get out of here.”

“Wait no, there’s also food in the cellar-”

They heard a crash and the pair shared a look. Keith ran into the adjacent stockroom, knocking over a large crystal tree in his haste. Someone in a biker helmet with a visor and a thick leather jacket had trapped their arm behind a fallen wardrobe. A Husk was gnashing their teeth against their helmet. The thick biker jacket appeared to be acting as armour, the only thing preventing the Husk’s teeth from sinking into their flesh. The Biker was currently fighting the Husk off with one arm. Keith darted forward and pulled the infected from the stranger, smashing its head off the side of the furniture with a crack. Grunting, Keith shoved the wardrobe to the side and the Biker’s arm was free. Quick as a flash, they immediately held a gun up to Keith’s head. Raising his knife, Keith darted backwards. The Biker fired.

The bullet rang out before a Husk dropped behind Keith. They’d shot it right between the eyes.

“Hey!” Keith snapped, as his head whipped back around to glare at the stranger. “Watch the noise! It attracts them.”

The Biker remained eerily silent as they slowly lowered the gun. They shrugged at Keith as their only response. Keith called through to Hunk that he was okay without taking his eyes from the stranger. Keith stared at them for a long moment, neither of them saying a word. Eventually, he motioned for the Biker to follow him and the pair moved out to where Hunk was pulling out a box from the cellar. It appeared to be packed with food.

“Keith! Keith you made it! We both made it! Um who-who is this?”

“Someone I found,” Keith said as he started rifling through the contents of the nearest crate. “He doesn’t talk much.”

“Oh, so is that just a habit of yours then? Picking up random strangers?”

“We can’t just let people to die,” Keith said, exhaustion creeping into his voice. “Now come on, we’re getting what we came for and then we’re boosting out of here.”

Hunk grinned. “Well, we’re in luck! Nothing has been touched since Shay and I’s last visit.” Hunk gestured to two khaki backpacks he’d already packed on the counter. The smile melted from Keith’s face as he caught sight of a Husk staring at them outside the Reiki, its neck was hanging to the side; long straggly hair across its face. Keith felt his blood run cold. Its eyes were glowing obsidian. A Mutation.

“Oh, man, Keith you’re not going to be believe what’s also back here, can’t believe I missed it the first-”

“Hunk,” Keith said quietly, cutting him off and slowly making his way to the cook. “Hunk be very still.”

Hunk’s eyes widened as he saw the Husk. Hunk wasn’t breathing. The three of them watched as the creature slowly rolled its head, eerie obsidian eyes glowing unnaturally bright; its mouth hanging open. From the corner of Keith’s eye, he could see the Biker’s hand clench around their gun.

“Don’t do it,” Keith whispered. “Don’t shoot. It’s not worth it.”

The moment stretched on for what seemed like an eternity, the silence so thick that Keith felt like he could slice it with his knife. The Husk’s head moved to the other side and the Biker raised their gun. They fired. Keith was a fraction too slow to stop them. The bullet hit the Mutation in the shoulder and it staggered back. Burning, purple eyes immediately bore down on them- the creature seemed to stare into their very souls. Its mouth fell open.

It screamed.

Hunk covered his ears as the creature let out a blood-curdling screech. It wasn’t long before the grey hands of the dead, burst through the wooden boards on the windows. They was banging on the back doors as the Husks attempted to make their way inside.

“Fuck!” Keith ran forward and grabbed the first Husk to fall through the boarded up windows and sunk his knife between its eyes. Hunk was already moving a large bookshelf across the room and against the door.

The screaming wouldn’t stop.

The Biker raised their pistol again and aimed at the screaming infected. They pulled the trigger. Click.  Click. Click. Click. No bullets.

Keith groaned and smashed the crystal ball over the head of another Husk. If you want something done right do it yourself.

“Hunk!” Keith yelled. “I’m going for the Banshee!” Keith had to shriek to be even remotely heard over the Mutation’s wailing. At this rate, every Husk in the country would be upon them. The door chimed again when Keith kicked it open. He grabbed a pipe from the front porch and swung at the Husks grabbing for him. He threw the knife sheathed in his boot and it embedded itself in the forehead of the Husk blocking the ladder up to the Banshee. Keith tossed the pipe before he began to climb up towards the shrieking Husk. Purple quintessence was dripping from its jaws as it wailed. Keith’s ears were on fire, the siren-like noise destroying his ear-drums the closer he got. Keith pulled himself up, wobbly on his feet as he crossed the thin metal walkway on the “Belly of The Weblum” sign. The Banshee was still screaming. Keith grabbed a metal comet shaped rod that had fallen from the sign. The edge was ruthlessly sharp. He charged and wedged it through the creature’s eye. The screaming stopped immediately and Keith kicked it square in the chest. It toppled from the high ground to the Earth below. Keith’s ears were ringing and he breathed deeply. He cast a glance down into the shop where Hunk was still pushing against the door, while the Biker picked off the remaining few Husks. It was under control. Crisis averted.

Keith let his arms fall to his sides as he caught his breath. He opened his mouth to call out to them when something slimy suddenly curled itself around Keith’s throat. He was yanked backwards through the air, his back scraping along the metal beams. The more he struggled the tighter it became. Keith was dropped from the height of the sign, the air rushing out of his lungs as he landed hard. Keith couldn’t breathe, his head smacked off a tyre as he was dragged across the grass. Looking up, Keith was met with the horrific sight of yet another mutated Husk, a putrid ball of puss on the right side of its head. It was the mutation's tongue that was constricting around Keith, dragging him towards it. Keith’s vision was beginning to turn black around the edges as he tried to slice through the flesh. His knife slipped through his fingers with his weakened grip. The world was turning dark-

Keith heard the unmistakable twang of a guitar followed by a gurgling noise.

The slimy noose around his neck finally loosened and Keith yanked it away tossing it as far as he could manage. He gasped, taking in deep gulps of air. He rolled onto his front, palms sprayed on the mud. Hunk was standing over the dead mutation, his eyes wide and his shoulders shaking. He was clutching his guitar like a life-line- although now it was snapped in two- the wood splintered into pieces, the strings irreplaceable. Keith let out a small laugh before he let Hunk pull him to his feet.

“I guess we’re even,” Keith rasped. “But shame about the guitar.”

“Never mind that! What was that thing?” Hunk shrieked. “Those weren’t regular Monsters.” Hunk called them Monsters. He wasn’t wrong. Keith chose to refer to the Galra’s creatures as either infected, Undead or Husks, although he was beginning to think that Hunk’s was more fitting.

“Let’s just get the Hell away from here,” Keith said, rubbing his aching neck. He could still feel that putrid creature’s tongue curling around his throat like a boa constrictor choking its prey.

____

Keith shouldered another pack onto his shoulder and reached for the rolled up sleeping bag on the counter. That’s when he heard the unmistakable click of a gun being cocked behind him. Sighing deeply, Keith slowly turned around, his hands in the air. The Biker was holding Hunk’s own gun up against his temple, their arm wrapped around his neck.

“So you’re just like the rest of them,” Keith said as the Biker slowly made their way towards the door. The Biker said nothing, merely grabbing a third bag of supplies, the gun not once leaving Hunk’s head until they reached the back of the store.

“That gun doesn’t have any bullets in it, you know,” Keith deadpanned before lowering his hands. “Just let my friend go.”

The Biker dropped the gun like it had burned them and they darted out of the store. Hunk apologised profusely for losing a bag of supplies, but Keith merely shook his head. Whoever, they were they weren’t worth it. Let them run, the coward. Hunk and Keith grabbed the remaining supply bags and made their way out of the Belly of the Weblum at long last. Hunk cut straight through the Reiki not once stopping to glance at any of the corpses that now decorated the carpeted floor. However, Keith lingered near the witch woman. There were three crows pecking at her skull now. Keith said a small prayer for her, thanking her for the supplies before he continued on, shutting the door behind him.

“Hunk, you really came through in the clutch back there.” Keith clapped him on the back once he had caught up with them. “Without you I never would have found all these meds and I would have definitely choked to death by our Mutated Frog Man. I owe you one.”

The car ride back to camp was uneventful after that. Red only broke down once and the one casualty of the entire ordeal was the guitar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shiro is coming soon. I can't wait to see him either.
> 
> All Kudos, comments, bookmarks are greatly appreciated!  
> Come say hi on Tumblr! and Twitter and Instagram- evainevitable  
> Feel free to check out my light-hearted Sheith work "It Takes Two to Tango!"
> 
>  
> 
> Stay Epic  
> -Inevi x
> 
> Next Chapter: In My Time of Dying


	3. In My Time of Dying

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love how un-festive this is considering the time of year so I apologise! I was supposed to have this up at Halloween Ha ha. Good one. Thanks for reading anyway! I hope you enjoy! Special thanks to everyone that left a comment on the last chapter! Reading them really made my day! I hope you’re enjoying this Resident Evil, Left 4 Dead, The Last Of Us, The Road and Voltron splice up! -Inevi

“I cannot believe you!”

Allura slammed her book down on the counter causing her current patient- a young boy with disheveled, auburn hair and a bandaged arm- to jump out of his skin. Keith raised his hands out in front of him in what he hoped to be a placating gesture.

“Allura I can explai-”

“-No, Keith! I don’t want to hear it!” She turned her back on him, finishing up with bandaging the young boy’s arm. “Not only did you just decide to take off without telling anyone- and with one of the cars no less- then you bring back a complete stranger!”

Hunk flinched at that and Allura might as well have slapped him straight across the face. Hunk immediately seemed to shrink into himself which only further fuelled Keith’s growing rage.

“Allura, I had to do _something_! We needed more supplies and you know the others would only slow me down. I found food didn’t I? Medicine...”

She sighed heavily, before telling the boy with the bandaged arm that he was clear to go. He ran out of the tent as soon as he got the chance. Allura returned her attention to Keith once again; jabbing a finger into his chest.

“We can’t afford another mouth to feed, Keith-”

“-Then what’s the point in any of this?” Keith cried as he gestured around at the small medical wing of their camp, “if we aren’t going to help anyone? Just let what little good people are left out there die?” Keith gripped the edge of the table. “Shiro never gave up on me and if he were here right now-”

Allura was steepling her fingers to her temples. “Well, he’s _not_ here right now, Keith! He’s gone!” Allura snapped and as soon as the words left her lips, she immediately wanted to take them back. But it was too late. The damage had been done. Keith’s violet eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched.

“I know,” he replied darkly, “and he was twice the leader that you will ever be.” His voice was low and cutting. Keith tipped over his backpack and let the contents clatter across the table; bottles of pills and bandages rolling across the desk. He slung the bag over his shoulder and reached into his combat belt pulling out the deck of tarot cards he had taken from the Reiki. He slammed them on the table, his burning gaze remaining on Allura until he turned on his heel.

He left the tent, letting the ragged curtain fall behind him.

-

Keith was halfway across the camp when he realised he had stormed away and left Hunk in a camp of strangers. Luckily, the cook came hurrying after him.

“Sorry about that,” Keith cringed when Hunk finally caught up with him. “Things are a little…tense right now.”

Hunk was shaking his head. “It-it’s okay! Just…just show me where I can help, or how I can help- if I can help,” he babbled as he fell into step beside him. Keith shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his coat before he sighed- Keith sounded double his age when he did that.

“Yeah. Yeah there always is. You can follow me.” Keith wiped at his face with the back of his gloved hand before leading the way.

Keith opened the blue flap of the largest tent and motioned for Hunk to head in first. There was a man with a messy mop of flaming, orange hair and a moustache to match, in the middle of telling a story to a small group huddled in the corner. He was gesturing wildly with his arms.

“…and that is how I lost my eye!” the man cried, half standing on the chair, pointing to his eyepatch. “And from then on I became Coran, Coran the half blind man!” he chanted. “And that’s not even the best part- ah Keith, my boy! Welcome! You’re just in time for the one when I intercepted an illegal smuggling ring-”

“-Ah I believe I’ve heard that one already, but thanks Coran. That one was truly riveting,” Keith deadpanned, his sarcasm was completely lost on the old war veteran. “If you’ve just about wrapped up here, there’s someone I’d like you to meet.” Keith nodded over his shoulder as Hunk nervously stepped forward. Coran twirled his moustache.

“Ah, a fresh face!” Coran slung his arm over Hunk’s broad shoulders and the cook bristled with the sudden contact. “So, my Lad what’s your deal? Are you a scouter like Keith over there, a medic like Allura or a storyteller such as myself?”

“A cook, actually,” Hunk said quietly as Coran raised an impressed eyebrow in Keith’s direction.

“Where on earth did you find this one, Keith?” Coran asked, “and more importantly how did Allura take it?”

Keith shrugged. “As you’d imagine.” He pushed himself off the wall and lingered at the edge of the tent for a moment. Coran began incessantly chatting to Hunk, no doubt overjoyed for another set of ears to listen to his tall-tales. Keith gave a small smile before quietly leaving the tent.

-

Keith cut across the grass and made his way to the oak tree atop the hill located on the outskirts of their small camp. It was his usual preferred spot. There was an array of wilted flowers around its thick trunk. Keith stood behind the single, wilted rose that he had stuck into the dirt a long time ago. By direct comparison, the snowdrops were still blooming- Allura had said they would. The others were all dead. The wind danced in to seize Keith’s hair, blowing stray strands across his face. Keith placed his palm flat against the tree trunk.

“I miss you,” he whispered after a long stretch of silence. “I don’t know if I’m doing the right thing keeping the secret from the others.” Keith let his head hang. “And I’m still angry at you.” Keith turned and pressed his back to the trunk, slowly sliding down until he was sitting in the dirt.

“So angry, Shiro.” He brought his dog-tags out from beneath his shirt where they always lay, cold against his heart.

_You’re never a burden, Keith._

Closing his eyes, Keith breathed deeply. He popped open the painkillers and necked back another two when he felt the tell-tale tingling of his old wound flaring up yet again. He ran his fingers over the scar and closed his eyes.

* * *

  _Keith was grey._

_Shiro hadn’t told him as much, but he knew there was no colour left in his face. He’d caught his reflection on a cracked rear-view mirror. His usually dusty pink cheeks were now hollow, and yet, Shiro hadn’t once stopped smiling at him._

_"This is… perhaps not our finest hour,” Keith managed to wheeze as Shiro helped him climb over a fallen telephone post in the middle of the long stretch of an otherwise empty road._

_“We’re fine, Keith, it’s not that bad. You’re fine. We’re almost there.” The blood was soaking through Keith’s t-shirt and he gave a choked grimace; wincing as pain shot through his chest like a thousand needles. He sagged in Shiro’s arms._

_“C’mon, Keith. Help me out here, buddy. I’m doing all the work,” Shiro said as he lightly tapped Keith’s cheek._

_“Oh… just the usual then?” Keith attempted to laugh through the knives in his chest. Shiro returned his half smile, despite how his heart sank to his toes now that Keith had to place all of his weight onto him. Keith was growing weaker by the second. Shiro ducked and gently nudged Keith’s arm further across his shoulders, sliding his arm around Keith’s waist to better support him.  Keith winced when Shiro’s hand brushed the gaping Husk-bite in his side. Shiro apologised profusely but Keith shook his head._

_“God…I really fucked up big time, didn’t I?” Keith’s voice was shaking. The sun was just beginning to melt beyond the hills, spreading streaks of cerise across the burning orange sky. Despite the world going to shit, the sun still rose and fell as if the Earth hadn’t fallen apart below her. Keith liked that. Even in the face of despair life always went on._

_“I’m always such a burden,” Keith muttered as he kept his hand firmly on his bleeding side._

_“Keith,” Shiro said, gently hoisting him up yet again, careful not to touch his wound, “Stop saying that. You’re never a burden, Keith. You’re going to be okay, we’ve already been through this.” Shiro was not having this conversation. “I’m getting you back. Matt and Sam will help you. And-and Allura! Matt and Sam spoke wonders about her! She’s great with treating the wounded-”_

_“-This is different, Shiro and you know it. There’s no coming back from this.” Keith’s once vibrant eyes were sad. “Once you’re bitten…”_

_“We don’t know that for sure, Keith. Sam and Matt will fix you. I just have to get you there in one piece."_

_“Shiro-” The rest of Keith’s words were lost as a deep cough swallowed anything else he had to say. All Shiro could do was hold him as the coughing racked his entire lithe frame._

_Suddenly, Keith’s legs went out from under him and Shiro gathered him into his arms._

_He carried him bridal style. Keith was grunting as the pain in his side burned with a newfound intensity. Keith pointed to the trees at the side of the road and Shiro gently put him down against the tree trunk. Shiro was shaking his head, continuously glancing over his shoulder at the steadily sinking sun._

_“Two seconds. Two seconds here, Keith and no more. Then we are moving again, we don’t have much daylight left okay? Okay?” Shiro reached forward to touch Keith’s cheek again when he received no response._

_“Just… sit with me…please?” Keith managed to get out between pale, cracked lips. Shiro looked like he wanted to put up a fight before he finally sank down into the spot beside him. Keith had his back pressed against the tree as he stared out at the setting sun. His head felt so heavy. Oh so heavy…_

_“Keith, don’t do this to me,” Shiro pleaded as Keith’s head lulled to the side. “Don’t start giving up now.”_

_Shiro now had both hands on either side of Keith's face, willing his eyes to stay open._

_“I’m sorry. I can’t go any further. I’m sorry.” Keith blindly reached up for Shiro’s hand and held it between both of his own. “I’m so sorry, Takashi.”_

_Tears began to prick the edges of Shiro’s eyes as he shook his head. “No,” he said plainly._ _“Not you too.”_

_Keith’s breathing was shallow as his fever began to peak. Keith’s grip tightened on Shiro’s hand ever so slightly._

_“Hey…remember that time when I stole your car at the Academy? The...the black one? I hot-wired it and everything.” Keith closed his eyes as he spoke. He could hear Shiro give a choked sob._

_“Yeah, thanks again for that. You nearly gave me a heart attack that day. Why are you mentioning…?”_

_Keith cracked open an eyelid and squeezed Shiro’s hand._ _“Well, I haven’t seen you this upset at me since way back then.” He tried to stretch his cracked lips into a small smile._

_“I was not upset, you liar,” Shiro was still trying to smile at Keith through his tears. “I thought I took it exceptionally well back at the academy, all things considered. You were a bit of a hot-head back then.”_

_Keith’s head drooped against Shiro’s shoulder. “Even when I chipped the paint on the side?” Keith murmured. Without thinking about it, Shiro pressed a kiss to Keith’s clammy forehead._

_“Even then.”_

_They watched the sun sink lower and lower until it disappeared completely behind the hills. Shiro felt powerless to do anything else- his best friend, his whole world was dying beside him. Keith was speaking but it was a mumble that Shiro didn’t quite catch the first time._

_“…go Shiro. You can go now. It’s okay. Please go now.”_

_Shiro’s eyes widened and he turned to Keith grasping him firmly by the shoulders._ _“You can’t honestly think that I’d leave you?” If Keith wasn’t so frail he would have shaken him vigorously. "_ _I’m staying right here.”_

_Keith tried to push him away but found that he could only weakly lay his hand against Shiro’s chest._

_“You can’t!” he wheezed which triggered another round of vicious coughing. “If you stay- when I turn I will kill you-”_

_“I’m not leaving you, Keith Kogane. I told you before, I’m never giving up on you.”_

_Tears were streaking Keith’s cheeks now. “Please, please leave, Shiro. I don’t want this. I don’t want this. Don’t make me take you down with me. Just let me go.” Keith gripped at Shiro’s shirt. “I want to go out knowing that you still made it.” Keith’s grip was growing weak. “Please survive. For me? Do it for me?”_

_Shiro let his forehead bump against Keith’s. “I was supposed to find the cure,” Shiro whispered as Keith’s breath shuddered beside him. “All of us. Me, you, Sam and Matt. It wasn’t…it was meant to be you and me against the world.”_

_Keith carefully peeled up his shirt, now sticky with blood and Shiro’s breath caught at the sight of the bite-wound once again. He hadn’t looked at the damage since it happened. Since he had done his best to stop the pernicious flow with what bandages and fabric they had on them. If he didn’t look at it after that then it didn’t exist. That was Shiro’s logic. He could ignore it until he got Keith the help he desperately needed._

_“There’s no coming back from this, Shiro. This is it for me.” There was a tone of finality in Keith’s voice. Violet eyes met molten silver._

_“I’m not leaving, Keith.”_

_True to his word, Shiro refused to leave his side. Even after several protests from Keith who eventually gave up when it became clear that Shiro would not budge- he didn’t have the strength to fight him even if he wanted to._

_“And people…always said I was the stubborn one,” Keith grumbled. Shiro had his arm around him; fingers carding through his damp hair. Shiro reached under his shirt and removed his dog-tags before hanging them around Keith’s neck. The metal was cold against Keith’s feverish skin._ _There was so much left unsaid- so much Keith still wanted to do and say and feel, but his throat had all but closed-up. His fever was bringing him to the brink of unconsciousness._

_The pair sat against the trunk of the tree and, as darkness fell, they faced the inevitable together. Keith felt his breathing slowing, the edges of his vision turning black. Shiro’s panicked face was at the centre. Keith let slip a trio of poisonous words that had plagued him for years:_

_“I love you,” he whispered softly. “I always have.”_

_Keith’s head lolled to the side. He could hear the distant sounds of Shiro calling his name before the darkness finally claimed him._

_-_

_In the morning, Shiro awoke with a start to find Keith still at his side. He reached out and gently checked Keith’s neck and wrist for a pulse he already knew would not be there._

 

_Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump._

_He was still alive. Shiro sat up with a jolt and crawled in front of Keith, cradling his head._ _“Keith. Hey, Keith wake up. Wake up, Keith. It’s me.”_

_Shiro held his breath as he saw the flutter of movement behind Keith's closed lids. Slowly, Keith opened his eyes and Shiro was met not with the cold, dead eyes of an infected Husk but a familiar set of violet orbs._

_He was still his Keith._

_Shiro let out a sharp laugh before gathering Keith into his arms and burying his head deep into Keith’s shoulder. This was not possible. There was a large possibility that Shiro was dreaming- that he had died of hypothermia in the night, or that Keith had turned and…_

_“Shiro?” Keith seemed to be coming to his senses. “Shiro are we dead?”_

_Shiro released his vice-like hold on Keith and smiled warmly at him. Relief was flooding through his chest. “It seems not. Well not yet anyway.”_

_As the sun rose, Keith’s fever finally broke and he was able to breathe freely once again. He still had to lean heavily on Shiro’s shoulder for support, but Keith could walk again. They continued down the road, and by the time they made it back into the city, Keith could stand on his own. The infected, bite-wound in Keith’s side had all but faded. Shiro had managed to stitch the wound with his steady hand and the aid of some alcohol found in an old garage. Keith and Shiro were still in shock. The unprecedented had happened: Keith had survived a bite from an Infected- a mutated one at that- straight to his side._

_And Keith hadn't turned._

* * *

The sharp sound of the sudden crunching of dead leaves pulled Keith from his thoughts and he quickly smoothed his shirt back over his old wound to cover it. Nobody, not a soul but Shiro, knew about that strange occurrence- of his apparent immunity to the Galra disease that had swept across the planet. Keith still wasn’t convinced that he wouldn’t turn into a Husk one day. He lived in constant fear that he would hurt his fellow survivors. He stayed away from them as often as he could, choosing to eat alone and heading on frequent missions for food and supplies. It had earned him his Lone Wolf title, but it mattered little to Keith as long as the team were safe. His black fingerless gloves helped him feel like he wasn't infecting everyone with his touch.

Keith pretended to be busy sharpening his knife as Allura approached him. Her shoulders were slumped and her hands were bunched tightly at her sides.

“Keith I…I am so sorry.” She began twisting the fabric of her lilac cardigan. Keith didn’t reply, but he did stop wiping down his knife. Allura took it as her opportunity to slide in beside him by the tree.

“I understand if you never want to talk to me again. What I said was…" she trailed off, her expression forlorn. "I’m sorry. I miss him too,” she said quietly. “I’m so sorry for lashing out on you,” she breathed deeply. “I never meant _any_ of what I said. I just…when you disappear like that I worry. I hope you’ll forgive me.”

Keith finally looked her in the eye. He put the knife down at his side, careful to avoid the wilted flowers.

"It’s okay. I was kind of asking for a lecture going off on my own like that. I just got lucky.” Keith let the back of his head bump against the tree trunk. Allura was chewing on her bottom lip.

“But what I said about Shiro was unacceptable-”

“-I heard about Hira dying in the night,” said Keith, cutting her off. “I’m so sorry. She was from your original camp. The Alteans right?”

Allura let her head fall into her hands and she stifled a sob.

“Yet another I failed to save.” They sat in silence for a moment before Keith reached out to lay his hand on her back. She sniffed.

“I was taking my anger out on you, Keith and I apologise. It's still no excuse to speak ill of the man who saved all of our lives.” Allura reached out to squeeze Keith’s hand. He accepted, making sure she only touched the parts of his hand the gloves covered.

“And I apologise for sneaking off without telling anyone," he said.

“And stealing a car,” Allura added as she dabbed at her eyes.

“Hey! Red is _my_ salvaged car, thank you very much. I was the one who hot-wired her. She’s mine.”

Allura just smiled, resting her chin on her knees. Her brows suddenly furrowed. “Did you see any Galra when you were out there?”

Keith shook his head. “Thankfully no, just Husks. But…” Keith trailed off before continuing, “they’re getting stronger. You were right about the mutations, Allura. Two of them were…” Keith stared down at his hands before he clenched them into fists. “The first was like a wailing spirit, like a…like a Banshee? It screamed and I’ve never heard anything like it. Other Husks came running out of nowhere. They were all drawn to it like some sort of beacon. Continued exposure to Quintessence must be the cause.”

Keith watched as Allura ran her fingers through her platinum hair. Her roots were coming in dark and she’d hidden it under a pink beanie which very rarely left her head. The world was falling apart but she still cared about something like that. Keith had teased her at first. The world was ending, so what did it matter if your natural roots were bleeding through your bottle-dyed white hair? But Shiro had helped him to understand a bit. It was holding onto the little things like that to keep yourself sane. Allura sighed and wrung her hands in her lap. “It’s strange. Where are all the Galra? We haven’t had to move camp. Not since…”

Not since the Galra had raided their last camp. Not since Shiro, Matt and Sam were taken. Keith closed his eyes. He still had nightmares about that day.... No matter how hard he tried to dispel it from his memories. He’d failed Shiro.

“I know the Galra have taken a lot from you too,” Keith said as he patted her shoulder. He was willing his mind to stop conjuring up the images of the horrific day when the Galra had found their last camp. Of Matt and Sam being herded onto one of their ships- of Shiro and that monstrous Galra soldier-

Allura had her hands on both of Keith's shoulders, trying to pull his attention back to the present. Keith shook his head dispelling the horrific incident from his mind. Allura’s bottom lip was wobbling. 

“I’m sorry about what I said about your leadership,” Keith eventually whispered over the growing lump in his throat. “You’ve got a lot on your shoulders, Allura."

She pressed her lips together tightly. “You know Shiro wanted you to lead if anything ever happened to him?”

“With the way I disappear all the time? You’re the leader, Allura. Not me," Keith said as he picked up his knife and slid it back into his sheathe.

“You saved a life today, Keith," Allura said softly. "That sounds more like a leader to me, than anything I’ve accomplished recently.” She sighed. “Other than snapping at my friends, that is.”

She was staring down at the snowdrops by the tree. Her eyes were bloodshot and puffy. Keith squeezed her shoulder.

“Allura, Hira had been in pain for a long time and you numbed that for her. You did everything you could.”

Allura had gnawed on her bottom lip to such an extent she was drawing blood. “Thank you, Keith. I don't...I don't really deserve your kindness.”

"Well, we all know Coran is the one who calls the shots around here.” Keith smirked. “How is he doing anyway? I know he talks a good game. Did the pills Hunk and I bring back help?” Keith had to focus on something else. He had to keep his nightmares at bay. 

Allura nodded. “His eye was acting up again but you know what he’s like.”

“Just said he’d suffered more in the war and asked for a cigar.” They said at the same time and the pair laughed; the awkwardness between them finally shifting. She reached into her pocket and pulled out the tarot deck Keith had left on the table. She smiled tentatively.

“And thanks for the tarot cards,” She said softly as she began to shuffle them. “Do I even want to ask where you managed to find these?”

“Nope.” Keith let his lips pop around the ‘p.’

Allura flashed the Empress card at him. “Perhaps I’ll give you a reading later?” She smiled as she wiggled her eyebrows. Keith shook his head but smiled despite himself.

“Maybe.”

Allura laughed knowing that was Keith-talk for _not a chance_. Allura lay her head against his shoulder. The irony wasn’t lost on Keith. He had nearly died against a tree after all. Which reminded him…

“The other mutated Husk was this hideous hybrid Frog man. It almost choked me to death. Luckily Hunk got to me in time,” Keith said.

“I’ve already apologised to Hunk too for my atrocious welcome. I do hope he’ll be able to forgive me after such a terrible first impression.”

“Something tells me he was never angry to begin with,” Keith reassured her as Allura finally stood and dusted of her ripped, grey jeans. She pulled her pink beanie back into place, tucking stray strands of silvery hair back under the fabric.

“He’s making the camp a thank you meal with the supplies you brought back. Come and join us in a bit?”

Keith nodded and Allura moved back down the hill, her hands wedged into her back pockets. They all had a great deal of weight to carry on their shoulders. They all had their own ghosts that followed them around; their own secrets, their own fears, their own scars.

Their own regrets.

Keith was pulling on Shiro’s dog-tags again.

* * *

_“Keith are you alright, man? You’re looking a little pale," Matt pointed out when Shiro and Keith finally returned from what was supposed to be a simple supply run. Keith opened his mouth to tell him everything- from the mutated Husk getting the jump on them- to Keith nearly dying by the tree- to surviving the bite altogether- when Shiro swiftly answered for him._

_“He’s fine. We’re both just exhausted. Car ran out of gas. We had to ditch it and head back on foot.” Shiro gave a tight laugh. Samuel Holt narrowed his eyes ever so slightly as he adjusted his glasses. He didn’t seem convinced with Shiro's explanation. He had known him years before the Galra invasion and knew that Shiro was not the best of liars. Matt, however, merely shrugged and continued with his rambling._

_"Well, while you guys were off galivanting, we managed to speak to Allura more- who is drop dead gorgeous by the way, but I believe I already mentioned that. She’s got white hair and she’s like rocking the whole heroine “grunge apocalypse look-“_

_“-Matt get to the point,” Sam said clearly unimpressed with his son's digression. Shiro gave a low chuckle._

_“Well she is offering for us to join her group! Dad and I should be able to continue our work on the cure considering she has better medical supplies than us…” Matt kept talking but Keith was a million miles away. He was watching Shiro smile and discuss their next move with Matt as if the entire ordeal back at the tree hadn’t happened at all. As if Keith hadn’t walked away from death. As if a Husk hadn’t taken a chunk out of his flesh. The only difference at all was how Shiro would occasionally reach over and squeeze his hand._

_That night Allura gave them a tour around her camp. As soon as Keith saw his opening, he pulled Shiro into the nearest empty corridor._

_“Shiro, it was one thing keeping it from Sam and Matt but we’re in a bigger group now! There are probably children here! Allura and Coran deserve to know! I could turn at any moment! They need to know they have a monster in their midst!”_

_Shiro was staring intently at Keith’s shoes and Keith gripped his arms._

_“Shiro, talk to me! Look at me at least!”_

_“You’re immune, Keith. I- I know it. Why else wouldn’t you turn into one of those things? You just have to trust me on this-“_

_“-You can’t know that for sure, Shiro! And if you’re so certain that I’m not going to turn, then why keep it a secret from the others? If you’re so damn sure about the Holts and their work why not tell them? Surely I’d make the perfect guinea pig for their experiments!” Keith felt tears prick his eyes and his grip only tightened on Shiro who remained uncharacteristically quiet._

_“Shiro I don’t understand! Help me understand! Why the secrecy?” Keith was beginning to raise his voice. If Shiro wasn’t going to give him answers then he was just going to keep getting louder and louder until someone else heard and-_

_“Because I can’t lose you!” Shiro shouted and the sudden outburst seemed to take them both by surprise. Keith blinked as Shiro’s shoulders slumped._

_“I…I can’t lose you," Shiro murmured quieter this time. "Not you too.”_

_Shiro finally locked gazes with Keith. He swallowed._

_“I love you,” Shiro whispered as his arms dropped back to his sides. Keith felt like there was an entire ocean roaring in his ears. Shiro was still talking._

_“You were delirious with fever and I don’t know if you even remember telling me but… I never got to say it back.” Shiro was speaking a million miles an hour. “Then we met back up with Sam and Matt and then we joined the alliance with Allura and I just- there was no time-”_

_Keith entwined their hands together and let their foreheads bump, their noses just touching. Shiro closed his eyes and breathed deeply. He leaned in, years of built up pining finally coming to an end..._

_Before Shiro’s lips could brush against Keith’s he felt a hand cover his mouth. Shiro’s eyes fluttered open in confusion to find Keith looking up at him sadly. He shook his head._

_“It-It’s probably for the best if you don’t…I…I don’t know if I’m a Carrier for this virus or if I could turn at any moment."_

_“Keith…”_

_Keith shook his head and tightened his grip on Shiro’s hand._

_"No, Shiro. It's not worth the risk. I was bitten by a Husk- one of the undead in case you've already forgotten. I could infect you, you can't just...no."_

_This was enough.This was more than enough. To know that Shiro felt the same way…not like a brother._

_Shiro sighed and settled for wrapping his arms around Keith and holding him close. Keith went rigid, and for a moment, Shiro thought he might push him away; refusing even a hug, but Keith relaxed in his arms. He buried his head into Shiro’s shoulder._

_“What a mess,” he mumbled into Shiro’s neck and he couldn’t help but smile sadly. Shiro placed a kiss to Keith’s forehead._

_“What a mess,” he echoed, looping his arms around Keith’s waist. They stayed in each other's orbit, momentarily safe from the rest of the world._

_“We’ll tell them together, but in the mean-time…keep it between us? We’ll tell them eventually I promise it’s just…Please not now.”_

_Keith looked like he wanted to argue before he set his jaw._

_“Alright. I promise, Shiro.”_

* * *

Keith rubbed at his eyes and attempted to dislodge the growing lump in his throat. He pushed himself away from the tree as he spotted Coran at the bottom of the hill. He was waving at him and gesturing for him to hurry up. Keith waved back and made his way back down.

_But I let them take you, Shiro. You kept me safe and when it mattered most I let the Galra take you. Right in front of my eyes. Now you’re gone and we never got to tell anyone the secret._

True to his word, Hunk had made a feast. Genuine smiles had spread across camp for the first time in a long time. Keith pulled out a chair and when Hunk caught sight of him he gave his friend an excited thumbs up. Hunk was nothing like the broken man he had found playing the guitar. Life went on. Keith hadn’t been completely honest with Hunk. The real reason Keith went out scavenging alone was because he didn’t know how to handle the others on his best of days. Should he tell them his darkest secret? Or keep it hidden like Shiro had wanted?

The food was the best he had eaten in what felt like forever...but it suddenly tasted like ashes in his mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! As always massive thanks to everyone that leaves Kudos, Comments and Bookmarks. Really warms a gal's heart that you take time out of your busy day and leave a lil something x
> 
> Come say hi on Tumblr! and Twitter and Instagram- evainevitable  
> Stay Epic ~Inevi
> 
> Next Time: Chapter 4 Shiro The Hero
> 
> This author responds to comments.


	4. Shiro the Hero

Keith took a deep breath in.

He kept the gun as steady as he could while he glanced down the scope. Keith wasn’t the best shot and he knew that. Give him a knife or a dagger and he could make it dance... A sniper rifle? Not his strong suit. Keith aimed at a stray Husk’s head that was staggering across the dirt roads. It was far from the wall of the perimeter. Keith waited for the infected to come out from behind the street sign, before pulling the trigger. The road sign was sprayed red. He'd finally managed a headshot. Keith breathed air out through his teeth. It was damn about time.

_If only you’d shot like that when the Galra attacked._

He shook his head in an attempt to dispel the incessant whispering in his mind. Those thoughts never really left him alone. The voices in his head were easier to ignore if he kept himself busy. Keith surveyed the rest of the perimeter before picking off any other lingering infected. Standing up, Keith dusted off his ripped jeans and glanced over at the slowly setting sun. It was almost the end of his shift on lookout. Keith held the gun across his palms for a moment before he heard movement behind him on the ladder.

“So you finally learn to shoot with that thing?” asked James; stepping in front of Keith and giving him a smug look. He pushed his unnecessarily long fringe from his eyes before gesturing with his fingers for Keith to pass him the sniper.

“It’s my turn on watch, Keithy. Go brood by the tree or something. It’s what you do best.”

Keith refused to rise to the bait. He levelled James with a cold, hard stare before pressing the gun abruptly into his arms. Keith shoved past him. He didn’t turn around as James’ peel of laughter rang out behind him. Keith was just grateful to be free of that gun- happy to be rid of the weapon and all the horrors it conjured up. He saw Shiro's smile flash behind his eyelids.

His failure.

Keith made his back to the centre of camp, popping open the lid of some canned fruit while he walked. Ducking into the tent, Keith glanced around for the others. He could always hear them before he saw them. In all honesty, Keith was surprised they never lured hordes of Husks to camp with the racket they made on a regular basis.

“Are you _actually_ playing snap with my tarot cards?” Allura’s shrill voice carried through the wall.

Keith popped his head in to find Coran and Hunk with the entire deck of tarot cards spread out across the table. The pair shared a look before Hunk slowly put down his cards.

“No….” he managed to say with a straight face. Allura rolled her eyes.

“Keith gave me those! Plus you aren’t supposed to use them for that, it isn’t for…oh just give me them!” She crossed the room in all but three strides and began to gather the cards; shuffling them despite Coran’s protests.

“Come on Allura! They work better for games than reading futures …the world has already ended! We don’t need anything else predicted,” Hunk pointed out, a slight whine to his voice. Allura gave a small smile before slipping into the seat across from them.

“Like… you know where Keith got those right?” Hunk continued, leaning forward for dramatic effect. “It was a creepy psychic gift store. He picked them up, right off this table with a corpse woman in a shawl.” Hunk shuddered at the memory.  “And she had a crystal ball and these crows were pecking at her eyes and…euuhhhhhhh,” Hunk trailed off he felt himself grow queasy once again. “Place was crawling with Husks and - she’s still shuffling the cards. Coran Allura's still shuffling the cards. Why isn’t she freaked out using a dead woman’s cards?”

Coran chuckled as he adjusted his eye-patch. “You should be used to Allura by now, Hunk.”

Allura pulled her pink beanie further down over her forehead and tossed her long,silvery locks over one shoulder. She cleared her throat. “Now, Hunk. You’ve been with us for a few weeks now. I feel we’ve gotten to know each other rather well, but I wonder what your cards shall say?”

Hunk gulped. “You’re not serious-”

“Divination is no laughing matter,” Allura said.

“Well actually it sort of is-” Hunk was cut off with an ‘oof’ as Coran elbowed him in the ribs.

Keith finally slipped into the room and leaned against the wall with his arms folded. He watched on fondly as Allura gave Hunk a ‘reading’ with the occasional exaggerated gasp or interjection from Coran. Hunk was laughing as Allura explained what each card meant and how he had to improve his confidence and follow his heart and yada yada. It was only when Allura eventually turned around, rocking back on her chair to face Keith that he felt his stomach turn. He shook his head.

“No,” Keith deadpanned. “I already said no, Allura.”

Allura cocked her head to the side, tapping her chin. “I distinctly remember you said _maybe_ ,” she countered with a sly smile. Coran pushed a chair out for Keith and twirled his moustache.

“Come on, man I did it,” Hunk winced. “I was thoroughly mortified and now it’s your turn to get your fortune read or whatever.”

Keith sighed heavily before he pushed himself off the wall. He swivelled the seat around so that he could drape his arms across the back of it.

“Alright. But you know, originally tarot cards never had any divination properties? It was only after the eighteenth century that they…never mind,” Keith trailed off at their blank expressions. Allura eagerly instructed Keith to shuffle his  cards before she placed them flat on the table before him. She moved swiftly flipping them over before Keith could change his mind. He always fled to that tree he always sat at. Keith was like the stray cat of camp at the best times. 

“The Death card-” Allura began before Hunk gasped loudly.

“Death?! Is Keith going to die?!” he shrilled, his face a mask of horror. Allura chuckled.

“No, the Death card is actually a good one to draw. It doesn’t have to mean actual death, more like a transformation of the self or a new era.”

Allura went through each card and Keith nodded along with her explanations. Her hand hovered over the final card with a silver key wrapped in vines.  

“There’s a secret eating you up inside. You want to let it out, but feel like its too close to your heart to share…”

Allura was still speaking but Keith kept staring at the death card. It had positive properties, yes, but all Keith could see was Shiro’s face flashing over his vision once again.

 

_“We’ll tell them eventually. Together, Keith. I promise."_

 

Allura saw the spark waver in Keith’s eyes and she trailed off. Maybe this hadn’t been such a good idea. Before Allura could do anything else, someone came to the front of the tent looking for her. She excused herself to speak with them. Coran sensed the sadness in the slump of Keith’s shoulders and he reached out to lay his hand on Keith’s shoulder. They sat in silence for a few moments before Coran removed his hand. Everyone knew Keith wasn’t big on being touched.

“What…what happened that day?” Hunk asked tentatively. He was of course referring to the day that everyone skirted around discussing. How their first camp had fallen.

“It was a disaster,” Keith said plainly. “There was probably a mole or something in our last camp. It’s why Allura was so cagey about letting you join us to begin with.”

“Overrun by Galra, you see,” Coran continued. “We still don’t quite know how or why we were targeted or if it was just a random attack, or if it’s as Keith says and we were betrayed.” Coran gathered all of Allura’s tarot cards together and tidied them in the drawer for her.

“They killed many of our people and took Matt and Samuel Holt. They were in Shiro and Keith’s crew before they joined us. It is possible the Galra knew they were working on a cure somehow. Maybe it was just a coincidence. We’ll never know.”

At the mention of a cure Keith’s mind turned to his wounded side once again. _A secret_. Keith excused himself from the tent but stopped in the doorway.

“And…what about Shiro?” Hunk asked thinking of the polaroid that Keith kept in the glove compartment of his car.

Coran’s face fell at that. “Shiro was killed. Keith thinks that he was taken too but…” Coran clasped his hands on the table. “Allura and I, and several others, saw Shiro get bitten in the arm by a Husk. There’s no coming back from that. Even if the Galra took him once you’re bitten by one of the Undead you turn. That’s it.”

Keith felt his stomach drop, his hand touching the secret scar in his side.

“…Shiro’s sacrifice allowed for the majority of the camp to escape.” Coran stared down at the table. “He really was Shiro the Hero. That’s what I call him in my stories, anyway.”

Coran began to retell of the fateful day that Matt and Sam were herded onto one of the larger Galra ships- of Shiro fighting his way through the hordes of Husks to try get to them; granting the others in the camp enough time to load onto the escape vehicles. Keith relived that fateful day most nights.

* * *

_"I have to Keith.”_

_Keith was firing over Shiro’s shoulder at the horde._

_“You have to survive. You’re the future, Keith,” Shiro said and his eyes were pleading with him to listen. Keith heard the sickening click of his assault rifle signalling he was out of bullets._

_“No, no, no. You don’t get to decide that, Shiro. We’re in this together-”_

_Shiro leaned up over the railing and grabbed the front of Keith’s hoodie. He pulled the startled Keith forward and kissed him. Hard._

_And then he let Keith go._

_It was never how Keith imagined their first kiss would play out._

_Shiro jumped down off the wall and sprinted across the camp, felling Husks in his wake. Keith had pulled Allura out from under some wreckage before he turned, frantically scanning the area for Shiro. He was fighting at the gates with everything he had; mowing down waves of Husks, allowing James, Hira and some of the others time to push back into the escape trucks. He was just reloading his machine gun when time seemed to freeze for Keith. Shiro was so close to reaching Matt and Sam when a Galra dropped down before him. The Galra normally attacked from the shadows – letting the undead do the work for them, but this was different._

_The monstrous Galra towered over Shiro - it must have been over eight-feet tall. The Galra had one insidious, glowing yellow eye and a large gleaming metal looking arm. The Galra seized Shiro; sinking its talon-like fingers into his flesh. The Galra made Shiro look like a ragdoll. Keith shrieked, firing his gun in rapid succession, but the Galra's skin was like armour; the bullets merely bouncing off its impenetrable exterior. The Galra lifted Shiro into the air, and for as long as Keith lived, he would never forget the sound Shiro had made as the monster slowly crushed him in its hand._

_Keith was running._

_There was a sniper rifle in the hands of one of the dead survivors - Keith didn’t look at their face. He darted forward and grabbed the gun, peering down the scope. There were too many and more Galra soldiers were appearing by the minute. Shiro was still writhing in the hulking monster’s grip. Suddenly, Shiro managed to wrench one arm free and he jammed a knife deep into the Galra’s glowing yellow eye. The creature wailed and tossed him into the horde._ _Keith felt his heart stop in his chest as Shiro was thrown through the air. Keith levelled the scope and tried to take the shot but Shiro was surrounded by the horde; the creatures grabbing at him. He might hit Shiro. He might shoot Shiro. He couldn’t shoot Shiro. K_ _eith fired as soon as there was an opening and the shot sliced through one of the Husks but another immediately surged forward to replace them. It sank its teeth deep into Shiro’s arm._ _Keith was screaming._ _Before he could throw himself into the horde after Shiro, he was grabbed from behind and hauled up into the back of a Jeep. Keith had screamed himself hoarse. He’d screamed for Shiro, knowing that he should have been the one to stay behind. Keith had been bitten before. He deserved to die not Shiro. Not Shiro. Never Shiro._

_The one guiding light in his world of darkness._

* * *

 “Guys,” Allura’s voice was grave as she popped her head back into the tent. Keith looked up to see how nervous she looked. “I’m calling a meeting. You’re all going to want to hear this.

_____

“A Military camp?” Kinkade cried up at Allura who was standing on the podium. “How do we know it isn’t some trap? That it isn't just the Galra trying to lure us all in!”

There were murmurs across the crowd as Allura nodded.

“Radio chatter suggests it’s called the Garrison. Something was sighted shooting through the sky just yesterday and it crash landed right in its co-ordinates.”

“Are there other survivors there?” Keith asked, speaking up for the first time. “If there are then I say it’s worth a shot.”

James shot him a burning look. “We aren’t rescuers. We’re survivors.” Horrifyingly, the majority of the camp seemed to agree with him. Allura motioned for the group to quieten down so she could speak.“If the radio chatter was anything to go by, yes it seems that it’s someone who has escaped Galra Captivity-”

“-Then that settles it then!” Keith yelled. “We send a team to check it out. It could be one of our own!"

James pushed through the crowd and shoved Keith in the shoulder. Hard. Keith stumbled back a few steps.

“You want us to go in all guns blazing just because you said so?” James snapped. Keith’s patience was wearing thin. He made to move towards James, but Allura grabbed his arm whispering that he wasn’t worth it.

“We can’t just leave them!” Keith bit back. “Shiro would never have left any of you to suffer. If there’s even a chance that they’re being held somewhere we have to try!”

James shook his head, blowing that infuriating wispy fringe from his eyes. “Valiant failed rescue missions is exactly how Shiro got himself killed in the first place, in case you’ve forgotten. You wanna do the same, Kogane? Follow in his footsteps, huh? Figures.”

Keith pulled out of Allura’s grip and stalked forward until he stood mere inches from James. Keith’s eyes were burning.

“You’d be dead if it weren’t for Shiro,” Keith seethed. He turned to crowd that had gathered behind James. “That goes for most of you, if not all of you.”

James smirked and cocked his head to the side. “And maybe he would still be alive if you hadn’t missed that shot.”

Red hot fury exploded behind Keith’s eyelids. His fist collided with James’ jaw without thinking twice about it. The crack was loud beneath Keith's knuckles.

______________________

Keith sat with a cold, damp towel on his face as Allura fussed with his minor injuries. Keith was a little beat up but it was nothing compared to the shiner Keith had left on James’ eye.

“Oh, so you agree with him too?” Keith quipped bitterly and Allura sighed.

“Of course I don’t, but Keith there is some truth in what he said, We can’t just storm some unknown base from radio-chatter alone.”

Keith was refusing to look her in the eyes as she spoke. “We don’t even know if they’re there,” she added softly. Keith shook his head.

“And the voice? Was it him?” Keith asked quietly and Allura took a moment to reply. She finished bandaging his knuckles before dropping the salve in the drawer.

“It was a girl’s voice that came through. I know you wanted it to be them, Keith,” she said softly. “I did too.”

“Allura this is your camp. Your people.”

She hung her head. “They don’t seem to be. Not anymore.”        

Keith tsked and balled his hand into a fist. “They’re just letting the Galra win. Hiding and surviving won’t work forever. They’re just delaying the inevitable.”

The curtain of the medical tent opened and Hunk stepped into the room with Coran on his heels. Keith looked to Hunk; his eyes pleading.

“Hunk. Think of the supplies we brought back. All we’ve done for them. Please tell me some of them are willing to help.” Keith stood up from the table, swaying slightly on his feet as he took a step.

Hunk and Coran shared a tragic look.

“Keith…people are scared.”

Keith recoiled at that, dropping the cloth he was holding against his head.

“You think Shiro wasn’t scared when he faced that _Monster_?” Keith’s voice cracked. “This is the fucking world we live in! If they want to bury their heads in the sand like fucking cowards then so be it.” Keith snarled. He stalked out of the tent.

Keith waited until dark. He had a backpack slung over his shoulder. Scrawled on a piece of paper where the co-ordinates the girl had given on the radio. He took the ladder two rungs at a time and swiftly made his way up over the wall. They’d picked off any lingering Husks during the day, but he was still on high alert, his dagger gripped tightly. He moved along the trees towards Red, running his gloved hand across her bonnet.

He jumped as a flashlight suddenly flicked on and Keith raised his knife. He relaxed against the door when his eyes adjusted.

“Allura? What are you doing out here?” he asked as Allura lowered the torch.

“I might ask you the same thing.”

“Nothing!” Keith replied quickly. “Just walking. Late at night. Near my…car.”

It was dark but Keith could feel the look that Allura was no doubt giving him.

“In _full_ combat gear with a bag of your belongings?”

Keith sighed.

“I have to know if they’re out there. I have to find him. This is the only way. Don’t try to stop me.” Keith opened the door to Red as Allura walked to the passenger side.

“I’m not going to stop you. I’m going to join you.” She pulled open the door and belted herself up in the shotgun seat. She folded her arms as if challenging Keith to tell her to move. Keith smiled before he turned the keys in the ignition. As always, Keith had to coax Red’s engine back to life. Then they were finally on the road.

\---------------

Keith and Allura had been only been driving for a short duration while before they heard a commotion in the back of the car.

“You’re elbowing my stomach!” a very familiar voice suddenly called.

“Well you haven’t left me much room with that giant rucksack you insisted on bringing along!”

“I had to pack the essentials, Coran!”

“Ohhhh and were the essentials an entire camp?!”

Keith sighed into the steering wheel.

“Hunk? Coran? You guys back there?”

The back seats were suddenly kicked open and Coran’s flaming head of hair burst through. He took great gulps of air and manoeuvred himself into the back seats. Keith cringed at the heavy handling of his chairs. They were already burst as it was.

“Coran it’s a rescue mission. A covert rescue mission," Hunk said plainly. "We’re going to need snacks.” 

Coran adjusted his bag on his lap and shook his head.

“Yes. I am familiar with covert missions. I was an army veteran you know-”

“-We know,” Allura and Keith said in unison.

“I for one, have only packed the essentials!” Coran pulled out a hefty hardback and brandished it in front of the cook's face.

“What are you going to do with that? Beat the Husks to death with knowledge?” Hunk asked incredulously.

 Keith sighed as he adjusted his over-head mirror.“Is there anyone else hiding back there?”

Allura chuckled and settled further down her seat. She pulled her beanie down over her eyes and folded her arms. “I think between Hunk’s rucksack and Coran’s ego I doubt it,” she mumbled. “I’m going for a rest. Husks be damned, I'll need my energy to survive this car journey with you three first.”

Keith lapsed into silence, then, as he let Coran and Hunk chat in the back. Perhaps this facility would finally have some answers.

Perhaps they really would find Shiro.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the slow update! Special thanks to everyone that left comments and kudos on the last chapter! If there's any requests for things you'd like to see happen feel free to let me know and I can see what I can do ;) POOR SHIRO I'M SO SORRY. HE DOESN'T DESERVE THIS. Saying that next chapter is a sad one GET THE TISSUES. Currently working on this and my other ongoing Sheith fic "It Takes Two to Tango" which is a Mass Effect crossover. I hope you enjoy that too! 
> 
> Stay Epic  
> -Eva Inevitable 
> 
> Next Time: Champion


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